


In the Snow

by sigmalied



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Family Issues, Gen, Post-Reaper War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 17:58:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9000820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sigmalied/pseuds/sigmalied
Summary: At one of the small lunch parties hosted by Tevos's family on Thessia, Dianth attempts to wade through the ulterior motivations Aria has for attending to obtain some modicum of tenderness and attention from her emotionally distant father.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Winner of the November 2016 poll: "Aria at a small dinner party with Tevos's family". Part of the GBTQ universe. 
> 
> If Dianth is new to you and you would like to know more about her, my fanfic master list on my tumblr (@sigmalied) contains several related works that have not been published to AO3.

“Dia! Dia, Dia, Dia,  _Diaaa—!”  _

At the sound of her name carried on the small voice, Dianth turned around to see her little cousin Cyri clumsily rushing through the snow toward her, bundled up so tightly in her jackets and scarves that her arms no longer naturally paralleled her sides when relaxed. She abruptly tripped and fell forward into the white drift but managed to recover before finally reaching Dianth, who helped dust the snow off Cyri’s front. The little girl noisily sputtered while wiping her face clean, then reached out with a mittened hand to take Dianth’s gloved one. Together they resumed the path looping around the estate, trying their best to adhere to the stones hidden beneath the snow.

“What’s the hurry?” asked Dianth.

“We’re going camping,” Cyri brightly replied. “I asked Mama if you could come with us. She said yes.”

“Camping? When?”

“In a month. Or a year. I don’t remember. Can you come with us? Please?”

Dianth privately smiled as she considered her answer. Little Cyri had always looked up to her and preferred her company over that of her sisters’, the youngest of whom was Cyri’s elder by more than two hundred years. That left her with no other sibling-like figure to imitate, idolize, and play with save for her cousin Dianth, whom she was closer to in age than anyone else within their blood-related generation, with only about twenty years separating them. Dianth was already too old for children’s games when Cyri was ready to play them, but the curiosity of what having a sister was like provided Dianth with enough incentive to participate.

“It’d have to be when I’m out of school,” said Dianth.

“Okay. I’ll tell Mama.”

The two came around to the backside of the estate again, where their mothers and aunts had set up to have their lunch on the veranda encased by glass; a necessary addition to the patio in such a climate. A manicured line of snow-frosted evergreen shrubs guided Dianth and Cyri toward them, and they minded the tall stoic pine beyond the grounds that stood like a fan-needled natural fence, further silencing the midday after a night of persistent snowfall. Beyond them, blue immaculate skies rose without limit.

Dianth spotted Aria, who had excused herself from the other matriarchs and their children for some unknown reason. Her stark white coat almost caused Dianth to mistake her for part of the scenery, had it not been for the far more salient, satiny black collar emerging from the valley of her lapels and wrapping high about her neck. As always she was dressed sharper than the stare she issued upon their approach, after turning away from her omni-tool and lowering the cigarette she held between her fingers. Her eyes were as cold as the ice beneath their boots.

While Cyri hopped on her feet a few times, waved, and yelled an enthusiastic greeting, Dianth said nothing. She had discovered, in that instance, a microcosm of her relationship with her father, where Aria stood at a frigid distance, semi-visible and perpetually aloof. Aria neither returned Cyri’s hello nor attempted to reach out to her daughter, but merely exhaled a fleeting stream of smoke and cold breath, gave an almost imperceptible incline of her chin, and tapped some ashes from the smoldering cigarette onto the snow.

There were vids in existence, on discs locked away in her mother’s most secure safes and only to be exhumed once every five or ten years, that showed appreciable warmth from Aria. But they were old, dating all the way back to when Dianth was just a baby and had little capacity to retain such memories into her more cognizant childhood. The one Dianth remembered with the most clarity had shown Aria dressed casually as she lounged across a sofa while cradling a very small Dianth in her arms, and was noticeably pleased to hold her until she had fallen asleep against her chest. The display of tenderness confounded Dianth, who wondered where it had all gone once she became proficient in speaking. That was where the scarce vids ended— shortly after Dianth’s third birthday, when memories of her father devolved into elusive appearances at small family parties, at which Aria seemed more of an estranged aunt than her father.

Dianth possessed a single fond memory of those days. Aria had, against Tevos’s decree, allowed Dianth to play in the snow without her jacket after the little girl whined and protested having to wear it. Free of its constriction, she had shrieked with delight before racing out to play, only to find herself shivering violently within minutes. Aria had been nearby with her jacket the entire time, ready to return it and hear Dianth submitting to the wisdom of elders. Such authority was only that bestowed to an immediate relative, she knew. Otherwise, the only truly tangible evidence of Aria’s parentage was that Dianth recognized vague aspects of her in the mirror. Without them, she might not have even believed it.

It was sickly amusing, how Dianth hadn’t ever been bothered by the overwhelming absence of her father until she came back when she was nearly twenty. There were no explanations, no apologies, and no recompense. Simply a reintroduction, followed by her mother inquiring whether she remembered her well.

When they reached the patio, Cyri let go of Dianth’s hand to stride forward, reach up, and turn the handle of the glass door, permitting them through. Immediately to their right, against the wall of the house, was a table set with lunch foods; mostly covered or returned to iced containers. At the other end of the patio, still convening in their chairs were the matriarchs of the family, clad in their coats and seemingly immune to frosty weather hardly abated by the glass enclosure. Previously a few of their adult daughters had been with them, but they had since retreated into the significantly warmer house to let their mothers talk. 

Dianth investigated the leftovers with her little cousin, who was looking for treats. While rummaging through the containers, Dianth overheard her mother speaking, quietly, “—highly advise you all to be extremely cautious and discriminating when considering her propositions. We don’t normally impede one another’s business, but I will in this case, adamantly if I must, if it preserves the family’s reputability.”

Nerava spoke in unconcerned reply, “Oh Tevos, you needn’t worry so much. It’s just restaurants, venues, high-end parlors… those sorts of establishments. It’s not like we’re investing in illegal arms dealing.”

Meanwhile, Dianth had discovered what remained of a modest platter of blue berries sliced into decorative flower shapes, interspersed by small milk-based sweets. She turned to Cyri, raised an index finger to her lips to indicate silence, then passed her several of each. Cyri bounced on her feet indiscreetly but made no additional noise. As her cousin shoved a berry and a treat in her mouth simultaneously, Dianth acquired a lukewarm skewer for herself. 

“My concern is not solely for the nature of our investments, but also their location,” said Tevos. “If our financial presence in the Terminus Systems—even largely through proxy and subsidiary—enters public knowledge, this could spell long-term consequences for our children. They are already discouraged from keeping tradition as is. Further adding to their hereditary burden will do no favors for our name’s longevity. My daughter will not reside in Kynias; the industry of her interest isn’t prevalent here and she has never considered this region her home. And most of your children have left to start families elsewhere. Realistically, Nerava’s youngest are the only ones I can see possibly inhabiting the estates after us.”

“I think our decline is part of modernity,” Farala said with unusual resignation. “Who can blame our children from shunning the past, when it’s so fraught with collusion? Even now we act as we always did. Aria T’Loak is scarcely different than the allies made by our foremothers. She is only more conspicuous. I find it almost amusing, Tevos, that you were the first example of this trend, yet now you seem most interested in preservation out of us all.”

“I think the virtue of our family remains important to me because I profoundly do not want my own choices and mistakes to negatively impact my daughter’s image. Perhaps they already have, from the very beginning. I need not inflict additional damages." 

Their discourse hushed when they noticed the pair hovering over the food. Dianth was careful to pretend she hadn’t been listening, and likewise gave no reaction when attention fell upon her. Nerava beckoned Cyri over to their table, who obeyed, and was followed by Dianth.

Nerava helped her daughter climb onto her seat, which they shared, while Dianth affirmatively answered both her mother’s questions of whether she and Cyri were having a decent time, and if they had spotted Aria when out in the garden.

“Dia wants to go camping with us,” Cyri announced to her mother. “But after school.”

“After school?” Nerava echoed in consideration. “I’m sure we can arrange to go during one of her breaks. What do you think, Tevos? Would you be willing to let us borrow your little girl for a week or so next spring?” 

Tevos smiled and exhaled a minuscule laugh. “She’s hardly little anymore.” Fondly she laid a hand on Dianth’s arm, who stood beside where she sat. “Dia’s very independent when she needs to be. Which is admittedly often, given how much time I spend in the Embassies. By all means, she’s free to go if that’s how she wishes to spend her vacation. I’m sure it’ll be fun for you all.”

“Well you can come along too, of course,” Nerava cheerfully offered. “I don’t know if it’s possible, since you’re always so busy, but… always know that you’re welcome. The fresh air could be good for you.”

“I truly appreciate your offer, I do. But I confess I’ve never been one for rugged wilderness.”

“When do I go to school?” Cyri asked Nerava, undoubtedly aspiring to emulate her cousin. 

“In just a few more years, darling,” answered Nerava. “When you’re ten.”

Shortly after, the matriarchs excused themselves from the table, leaving it to Dianth and Cyri as they prepared to take a walk around the gardens. Before they left, Nerava found a few treats in Cyri’s jacket pocket and chastised her for not asking permission to have them, but so trustingly left them within reach for Cyri to quietly reclaim at a later time. Dianth heard Laiene suggesting to the other members of her departing group that they seek out Aria to reconcile, to which Tevos wryly replied, “She doesn’t require our consolation. The only way she’ll receive it is if we yield and do business with her.” Then, she added, “And this time it’s out of the question.” 

Alone at the patio table, Dianth sat across from Cyri, who idly swung her legs beneath the table until the elder asari leaned in and asked her if she wanted a sweet bun. An excited _yes_ was her answer.

They emerged from the glass enclosure after having their fill of snacks. Dianth spied the matriarchs at a distance, speaking austerely amongst themselves; no doubt deliberating on how to handle whatever deal Aria had left on the table. Coincidentally, as she pondered her father’s potential goals, Dianth’s gaze settled on the occupant of her thoughts. Aria remained approximately where they had seen her last, this time seated on a bench. She appeared pensive and a bit unhappy, still engrossed by the messages projected from her omni-tool. Dianth submitted to her compulsion to approach, curious beyond words about the lone figure in regal white.

Remembering Cyri, whose hand she grasped, Dianth turned to ask her to start making a snow-animal nearby. Upon promising that she’d join her shortly, Cyri happily dashed over to a good spot and began piling a generous resource of snow, enabling Dianth to approach her father in private.

Blue eyes lifted to acknowledge her when she arrived a few paces before Aria. Dianth sat down on the bench beside her, prompting Aria to close her omni-tool’s window and conceal her business. For a few tense seconds they sat in silence until Aria spoke at last. 

“How are you liking the weather?”

The mundanity of the question surprised Dianth. Aria had never been one to waste words, and she was even less so inclined to waste time on pointless smalltalk. “...It’s a good change,” Dianth answered nonetheless.

“This might as well be an entirely different planet,” said Aria, with a hint of discontent. “I find snow to be… completely alien. I grew up on islands back when I lived on Thessia. Beach cities, where it was warm most of the year. I have absolutely nothing in common with Kynias.”

So she hadn’t wasted words at all, thought Dianth. Everything she had meant to say was there. Deciding to change the subject, she told her, “We’re going camping next spring. Me, Nerava, little Cyri, and Elisia. In the south, where it’s warmer that time of year. You can come too if you like. Mother said she’s not interested, but I know you and Nerava tend to get along all right. I think it could be fun.” 

Aria scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“What? Why?"

“Why the hell would I think temporarily giving up all the luxuries I’ve worked hard for is somehow fun?” Aria issued her rebuttal. “No bigger waste of my time.”

Dianth found herself bristling, although she could hardly place the origin of her offense. She pushed herself up, shaking a bit in confused distress, and let spite she could have only inherited from her father leak from her lips, “You’re more of a pampered princess than anyone here." Abruptly she left before Aria had the chance to return the blow.

While striding over to where Cyri had started forming her lopsided sculpture, Dianth managed to mentally articulate her anger. So quickly and easily had Aria dismissed a chance to spend time with her, to get to know her own daughter better in close extended company. Saying no was one thing, but mocking it was another. It hurt more than it should have. It hurt in a way only people she loved should have been capable of, but that in itself was key. Dianth wanted a relationship with Aria. Dearly. The more she learned about her the more she both admired and resented her, and such contrast was impossible to keep stable in her heart. It needed to be sorted out, pushed toward one side or the other. And Dianth had a fairly keen sense of direction at present. 

She helped Cyri create her icy creature for exactly twenty seconds before a handful of snow meant for its back was pressed into a ball and vengefully hurled at the one who had hurt her feelings. Her instincts thought the gesture harmless. Aria was a known force of nature on any battlefield and would certainly not be felled by a snowball. So when the projectile burst against the side of Aria's face as she began raising a hand to her earpiece implant to place a call, Dianth paled to an extent that nearly camouflaged her against the wintry landscape.

Aria was on her feet immediately, shaking the snow from her hand and wiping her face before meeting Dianth’s eyes with a cold lethal glare. She knew precisely where the attack had come from and was poised for retribution. Dianth wondered what she would do. Knock the wind out of her with a snowball of her own? March right up to tell her how much she annoyed her, that she regretted her, among countless other obscene and drastic fears racing through her mind? Beside her Cyri stood shocked but did not flee, even as Aria began to approach them like death incarnate. 

Her vision had narrowed so considerably from fright that Dianth had not noticed the casual arrival of the matriarchs, until she heard Aria’s name spoken on her mother’s voice. When Aria turned to address her, she revealed to Tevos the side of her face to which bits of ice clung, some gathering on the shoulder of her coat. Apparently having missed the assault, Tevos concealed a gentle laugh with the back of her wrist and reached out with a cloth handkerchief to help wipe away what remained. She asked her what happened but received no reply as Aria glanced at Dianth again, her expression indecipherable. 

“I wanted to talk to you,” Tevos said to her. “About what we were discussing earlier. There may be a middle ground.”

“A middle ground?” Aria repeated, her anger dissipating at the mention of business. “You know negotiating only works with me under very specific conditions. I may give more in exchange but what I want is what I want. Spare me the conversation if you’re not prepared to deliver.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that.” She linked arms with Aria and began leading her back to their group, whispering as they went. 

Left without closure, Dianth suddenly found it harder to breathe, although she wasn’t quite sure why she had been affected so severely. The sight of her parents departing together had made her heart wrench, brought tears welling in her eyes. Disoriented and confused by her anguish, Dianth frustratedly wiped her eyes and sniveled before lowering herself to the ground where she desolately sat down in the snow. 

Cyri, ever so attached and empathetic to her cousin, reached into her pocket to retrieve one of the sweets she had pilfered and offered it to Dianth. It was a little warm and on the verge of melting, but Dianth took it, placed it in her mouth, and managed not to cry.


End file.
